The clenched fist of the celestial dragons
by Smaugtheterrible
Summary: A man, a butler, a servant to the one of the celestial dragons. Trained to be a killer, a guard, a chef, anything and everything for a celestial.


_The Clenched Fist of the Celestial Dragons_

Sooo… Many people fantasize over the dream of being sent into a new world, graced with overpowered abilities. Especially into the worlds of anime.

I was reborn into One Piece, not as any particularly notable figure, the fourth child of a family of mercenaries, only remarkable for our relative ease in mastering new techniques.

But where was I right now you ask?

Two years of age and being handed over by my druggie babysitter, who was supposedly an old family friend, to a group of slavers.

Later, as I was being taken away, I wondered wether or not my new family would look for me, or even realize I had gone…

_Scene Break_

I was laying in a crib, one of many in a line, my limbs sort of kicking and waving in the air, one of many in a line. I heard two steps of footsteps walking down the line of cribs, and snatches of conversation.

"What you are looking for my lord?"

"A long term investment."

"Combat or relief?"

"Combat."

There was a pause, and a contemplative hum.

"Then, perhaps my lord, you might consider the child down this ways."

More footsteps, then two faces appeared above the crib, the first, the slaver who had bought me, his clothes all sorts of odd colors, and perched on his nose were a pair of star shaped glasses.

The other face as what truly brought my attention though, it was encapsulated in a clear plastic bubble, with a grey beard and regal face. It wasn't a mean face, or a nice one, if I had to describe it, it was the face of a man with a clear goal in mind, and who would tolerate no obstacles in his path.

The regal man rubbed his sternum contemplatively, his face twisting into a slight smile.

"This child will be perfect."

_Scene Break_

So yeah, I was reborn and sold to a man who I later learned was the great and majestic sovereign saint Augustine, a man so utterly full of himself, if you poked a finger up his ass, you'd hit a blockage before the first knuckle.

To give credit where credit is due, the rotund man was an expert in identifying talent, and I mean any kind of talent, it was what he was known for, the identification and development of long term assets of the flesh. Everything from cooks, to pleasure slaves, to bodyguards, to trainers, to fisherman and palanquin carriers. The saint Augustine had a gift for identifying and developing talent that brought him recognition even from the other saints.

As of right now at least, I was in the midst of being… Trained? Beaten? Getting the crap kicked out of me?

One of the Saints' previous slaves that he had retained to tutor new combat slaves was beating the crap out of me in an educative fashion.

Before each hit, the man would count down.

"Im going to hit you, in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…" **_Wham!_**

Every five seconds, there would be another thud, and the impact would lift me up and toss me across the room, skidding across cement and into the wall on the opposite end of the room. I would manage to get myself onto my feet, and then get promptly knocked off my feet once again.

If I wasn't getting the crap beaten out of me, I might have been more appreciative of the sheer expertise the blows, hard enough to stun, to mark, and to draw blood, but not enough to disable or permanently damage me. It was almost like an expert workmen swinging a hammer to hit in a nail.

Just hard enough to send the nail in with the minimal amount of effort without warping the metal of the nail or bruising the surrounding wood.

This training would go on for two years, slowly turning my body into an iron hard mass of muscle, of course with no scars on my face. Also, and somewhat irritating in its logic, was the next stage in training. After the dodge training, there was Shave training. Shave was one of the very first powers in the seven powers list. For a reason, it was a building block of general body fitness and manipulation that would underline the basics for the next six powers.

_10 Years Later…_

I stood, ramrod straight by the door, watching as listening as my master, the saint Augustine speaking to a Marine Officer Kizaru. The massive man was an up and coming official who was aiming for the admiralship, Saint Augustine, for all his many flaws had his eye for talent and was willing to offer Kizaru his blessing and not inconsiderate backing as a saint for admiralship, and all it would take is one small thing.

Kizaru had to teach me Haki. Over the past ten years, I had managed to learn the seven powers, but that only put me at the level of CP9. And while that was substantial, my master wished to put me on the level of warlords of the sea, and in time, with the captains, kings, and yes, the_ emperors _of the new world.

Over the past ten years, with the aid of his numerous servants, the saint had turned me into a consummate butler, with the skills of an assassin.

He also did things like ensure that the only good things in my life came from him. All my meals that weren't water with moldy bread and cheese, whenever I was given better accommodations, it was the saint who walk me to them, or deliver them. I knew what he was doing, making me subconsciously associate him with good things, while associating his subordinates, especially my martial arts teachers, with the physical punishments.

But that's the thing with properly conducted mental conditioning, even if you realize its happening, there's not a lot you can do to stop it.

And I still wanted to get as strong as I could, before shoving a fist through the saints heart.

I focused back as Kizaru nodded, and shook hands with my master. The massive man stood and took a single long step closer, before leaning down, his massive, smiling face directly in front of my own.

"Hmmm… Are you sure he can take it?"

My master smirked, his frog lips twirling up at the corners, his eyes squinting into non-existence as he smiled.

"I think you will be pleasantly surprised."

_Scene Break - 2 years later_

I stood at attention, my back ramrod straight as Kizaru presented me to my master. Over the course of my trainings, the marine official had managed to turn me into a steel block.

I meant that literally.

Somehow, through the sheer stupidity and mind breaking physics of One Piece, my body literally could take bullets, and that was before even being reinforced with haki. But now, my master was looking over me with a critical eye, and an enigmatic smile that didn't sit well with me. The last time I had seen him smile like that, there had been crocodiles, and lions, and bears, oh my.

But now my master was withdrawing a small wooden box, and placing it on a nearby table. The box itself was relatively normal, a reddish brown wood, bronze colored hinges and clasped, but inside it, oh-hoh.

Inside it was a fruit the likes of which I had never seen. It was vaguely pineapple like, with a tough, spiky looking exterior and swirls of purple and black for its coloring.

But what was most disturbing was its _shape. _ It was like someone had shaken apart the fruit, and then shoved in back together, with glue and nails in whatever way they could to get in stuck together, almost like a jigsaw puzzle that had been mashed, hammered, and glued together.

I looked at my master to check what it was he wanted. The Saint nodded, and gestured towards the fruit with on lazy hand.

I placed a hand onto the fruit, which seemed to be humming with an internal energy.

I lifted it up and took a bite, the tough skin of the fruit parting way for my teeth as I bit into the fruits juicy flesh, letting some of the juice run down my chin.

So… You know how everyone who's ever tried a devil fruit describe them as the most rancid thing they've ever tasted? Thats about right. I remember once being forced to eat a salad with dressing that had spoilt, which made every bit a rancid, bitter, pulpy mass.

This was a hundred times worse.

I shuddered and repressed the urge to throw up, my back curling, until I was hunched over. Then the taste was gone, I straightened up, by back creaking from the strain my muscles had been under as I avoided the urge to hurl.

But as I, Kizaru, and my master all began smiling, my arm began to break apart. And then the floor around me.

_Scene Break_

I stood at attention, two steps back and one to the left of my master as he reclined on a beach chair on the deck of his personal battleship, crewed by his personal fighters and slaves.

He turned to me, an anticipatory smile on his face.

"Sabaody?"

I nodded.

"Yes my lord, if you wish to encounter the most interesting stars of this generation, Sabaody is where we need to be, for now at least."


End file.
